


Love Rings

by Rhube



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: Angst, Comfort, Feels, Love, Love Potion/Spell, M/M, Mind Control, because love spell, but this isn't forced to fuck or anything, checkov's pregnant cat, dub con, love rings, maybe? - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-25
Updated: 2019-12-09
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:01:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21561853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rhube/pseuds/Rhube
Summary: Hawke gives Anders and Fenris each a ring he looted off a corpse, believing the rings offer harmless enhancements to each man's existing powers. But as time goes on they find themselves drawn more and more to each other, and suspect the rings may be responsible.(Not your typical love magic story.)
Relationships: Anders/Fenris
Comments: 33
Kudos: 92





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I wasn't going to write this as I'm not that well at the moment, but I loved the idea and wanted to share it. I wrote a post summarising it on Tumblr... and Tumblr ate it. Clearly I'm meant to write it for real.
> 
> I've marked this as explicit as it probably will go there eventually, but the content for this chapter is gen.
> 
> I know love potion/spell/enchantment things can often go non-con (and I've written that elsewhere) I don't think this one is, though. You'll need to wait until later to see why, but this isn't your typical love spell. I think it's going to be a lot more about the feels than the sex. The issue of consent will be considered and discussed and I think both Fenris and Anders will be sufficiently with it when they do get it on. But if any kind of love spell squicks, triggers, or bothers you, please consider this a warning.

"...And anyway," Hawke said, bringing his long rambling account of their adventures on Sundermount to a close, "after all the spooks had crumbled to nothing, there was a surprising amount of loot to be had."

Merrill sighed and folded her arms. "You know how I feel about you looting around the graves of my ancestors. That's sacred ground, Hawke."

He shook his head. "No graves disturbed - I swear!" he held up his hands in innocence. "This is just what fell out of the... ether I guess, when those shades collapsed?"

"It's true, Daisy," Varric said, reassuring her. "No graves turned. And you know what it's like up there - you don't have to be doing anything at all for something to attack you."

"I suppose," she said, although she still looked unsure.

" _Anyway_ ," Hawke went on, "there was plenty of _perfectly ethically_ looted stuff to go around, so I brought back presents for everyone. Aveline, Isabela, and Varric have had there share, but there's an amulet for you, Merrill; and a ring for you, Anders - I think this rune means healing; and one for you, Fenris - for strength? I think? Aaaand for Sebastian-"

"I appreciate the gesture, but I don't know that I should accept an elven artefact, Hawke," the Chantry brother said. "Andraste-"

"Andraste's not going to mind you making use of an ancient elven bow - besides, it's ironwood. Isn't that, like, archer gold or something?"

Sebastian's eyebrows rose. "Ironwood?"

Hawke grinned. "Yeah, I knew you'd like it."

Anders fished the proffered ring off the sticky inn table and examined it. They were in the main room of the Hanged Man, and every surface was inevitably sticky.

He frowned at the markings. "There's quite a lot of runes on here, Hawke, are you sure it's for healing?"

"What?" Hawke turned back to him. "Oh yeah, look here - that's healing, right?" He pointed to one rune that was clearly legible. "Plus, it gives off that healingy vibe, you know? Enchantment was never my forte, but I recognise that."

Anders shrugged. Hawke was right about the rune he'd identified, and the only enchantment he could clearly sense off the object seemed to stimulate his healing magic. Maybe the other markings were just an inscription of some kind. Slipping the ring on his finger, he could feel the flow of mana shift within him, and he had the sense that healing magic _would_ come a little easier to him now. "Thanks," he said to Hawke, and smiled to see the big the man beam back at him.

At his side, Fenris was fiddling with the ring he'd been given. Hawke had let slip the other day that Fenris had only just started learning to read Trade. Doubtless the runes on his gift were an utter mystery to him.

"That _is_ the rune for strength," Anders said, pointing to what was clearly inscribed on the face of the ring.

Fenris snatched the ring out of his reach, and Anders sighed. "Suit yourself," he said.

Fenris grunted, and slipped it on one of his long, slender fingers. The rings fit well for random jewellery looted on off the ground. Perhaps more surprising on Anders' larger human hands than on Fenris, given the original owners had likely been elves, and slightly smaller themselves. But perhaps Hawke had noticed the relative sizes when he'd been selecting his gifts. It didn't always seem that way, but he could be quite thoughtful when he wanted.

Anders' eyes lingered on Fenris's hands for a moment. The white lyrium markings stood out strangely. He had a sudden urge to run his finger along that line of power... and shivered.

***

Fenris rubbed uneasily at the ring on his finger. He still wasn't used to receiving gifts. Not the kind Hawke gave, anyway.

Danarius had sometimes given gifts, but those had been to adorn his little wolf - to make Fenris more fearsome or more pretty as him whim decreed. Hawke's gifts were different - given just because he thought they would please.

Each one made Fenris feel oddly vulnerable - as though Hawke had looked at him with a depth and clarity he wasn't used to - and they touched him in a way he wasn't keen for others to notice.

When he'd realised Anders was watching him as he contemplated the ring, he was conscious of how unguarded he was being. Irritated, he'd pushed the ring down on his finger, out of the mage's reach - as though Anders would take it away from him. Fenris knew the mage better than that by now, but still, the attention of any mage for over long could unnerve him.

Any mage except Hawke, of course. He sighed. It had been his choice to leave when he had, and that was probably for the best. Hawke seemed happy with Isabela now. The fact that Hawke still wanted to be friends after the awkwardness of that night was a gift in itself.

Setting those memories aside, Fenris looked up and met the eyes of a different mage: Anders.

Anders had been looking at him while he was deep in thought. It should have made him feel exposed, as it had before, but... Something in those warm brown eyes sent a pleasurable shiver through Fenris. He frowned, surprised, and Anders coughed and looked away.

A strange moment. What _was_ that look he had seen in Anders' eyes?

He was suddenly very conscious of the mage's body heat next to him, and the proximity of the man's thigh under the table.

Ridiculous. He was aware that Anders was good-looking in a human sort of way, but he'd never been _interested_ like _that_. Anders' foolish ideas about freeing mages were enough to put Fenris off, even if the mage hadn't made his distaste for Fenris so obvious.

Fenris shook himself and pushed back from the table. It was clearly time for another beer.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fenris finds himself thinking about Anders a lot. Anders misinterprets the attention.

Fenris spent the rest of the evening unusually... conscious of Anders.

He was aware of the man's large, but finely-shaped hands in a way he'd never been before. They didn't show the callouses of a craftsman or swordsman, but neither were they as soft and unused to labour as Danarius's hands had been. But why was that surprising? Though Anders used magic freely in his healing, he also made potions and poultices for his patients, and he cleaned bandages. He must also work to clean his clinic.

Fenris had never considered it before, but Anders did many things a mage in Tevinter would be appalled to even think about. A mage of his talents would have healed only the highest echelons of Tevinter society. He would have servants or apprentices to perform anything that couldn't be done with magic.

Fenris tried to picture Anders with servants and snorted. He wouldn't know what to do with them. They would get in the way as he persisted in trying to do everything himself.

Anders turned at the noise and caught him looking. "What?" he said.

"Nothing," Fenris said. "I was just reflecting that you would make a very poor magister."

Anders rolled his eyes. " _Thanks_ ," he said, sarcastically. "Never said I wanted to be a magister, did I? Freedom for mages doesn't have to result in tyranny, Fenris, I keep telling you-"

"Now boys," Varric interrupted. "You were doing so well. And I'm not sure I have the energy to follow this conversation round and round again. Not after a long walk back from Sundermount."

Anders held his hands up. "I didn't start it!" he protested.

"And I didn't say you _did_ want to be a magister, I only-"

"This is not the sound of a conversation coming to an end," Varric said, then turned to Merrill and spoke pointedly. " _Daisy_ , were you saying there's a pregnant cat down in the alienage? Wouldn't you like to hear more about _that_ , Anders?"

Anders flushed a mottled pink that Fenris had to admit was very pretty. "I, well, yes, I suppose I would," he said, allowing his attention to be diverted. "What kind of cat is it?"

Fenris gladly lapsed into silence. He hadn't, he realised, actually meant to provoke the mage. Although part of him was relieve Anders hadn't taken it for the compliment it was. Hadn't realised how long Fenris had been looking at him, or how close he had allowed his arm to drift towards the mage's on the table.

What was he doing? Perhaps he did find the man attractive, but he certainly didn't want to pursue that attraction. Anders was possessed - an abomination! And it was quite clear that Fenris wasn't ready to be in a relationship anyway - after the way he'd treated Hawke.

He shook his head. He must have had too much of the swill Corff called ale.

Yet he found he didn't quite have the will to get up and leave. He wanted to stay just a little longer. So he stayed, and tried to pretend it wasn't for the strange thrill of what could only be an imagined tension between him and the mage.

***

Fenris found his mind coming back to the mage again and again over the next few days.

Perhaps it was the realisation that Anders would not make quite such a good magister after all. He'd known Anders worked with the poor and refugees in Darktown, of course, but he hadn't spent much time wondering why for a good long while.

When he'd first met Anders, he'd simply regarded him with the same distrust he would any mage. It wasn't surprising that the man was hiding in Darktown, considering his escape from the Circle. He'd assumed at first that the mage charged for his healing, and when he learnt that wasn't the case? Well, Hawke had told the story of how they'd met - how the people of Darktown protected him. So Anders bought his safety with his magic - what of it?

When he'd learnt that people donated money to the clinic the scam had seemed complete. Did Anders truly heal people for 'free' if he received gold for his services?

Yet, as well as that thought had sat at first, time came to show that Anders spent none of the money on himself. He spent little at the Hanged Man and barely seemed to change his clothes. If he had spares, they weren't many. With the passing of the years, his undershirt became greyer, his coat more ratty, and the feathers of his paulderons a matted mess.

At some point, Fenris had given up wondering why Anders stinted himself so. He might be strange, for a mage, but then, he had admitted a demon into his body. Perhaps Justice simply didn't value material things in the same way a mortal man would. And Justice? Well, Justice was proof that Anders was dangerous, was he not?

And yet... Anders was more than the single-minded embodiment of a spirit. He was... witty, though he rarely graced Fenris with any comment that wasn't designed to hurt. And healing the people of Darktown didn't really seem to advance his cause - those people were not powerful or wealthy, they could do nothing to free mages from the Circle or even persuade those in power to do so.

And whatever deal Anders had made with Justice, it clearly wasn't for power.

He might be a fool, then. But a well-meaning one.

The thought sat ill with Fenris. He didn't like to think of Anders as compassionate and kind when every interaction they had seemed to end in an argument.

To make matters worse, all this thinking about Anders made him even more conscious of the man's presence when Hawke brought them out on jobs together. Perhaps it was just that he was more aware of the man, but he always seemed to end up close to Anders in Battle.

Was Anders looking at Fenris more? Or was it that Fenris was looking so much at _him?_

After the third evening in a week where time spent helping Hawke had ended with sitting next to Anders in the Hanged Man, distractingly aware of every movement Anders made, Fenris had had enough.

It was time to bring things to a head - one way or another.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anders has been thinking of Fenris, too. Justice is troubled by this distraction, but Anders is convinced it is a crush that will pass. That is, until Fenris crashes into his clinic late that night.

Anders was thinking of Fenris again.

After a battle on the Wounded Coast that afternoon, he'd taken off one of his pauldrons to allow Anders to examine a wound, and something about the way Fenris's muscles moved under his smooth tan skin had been quite captivating. Anders bit his lip just thinking about it.

 _Why are you thinking so much about the elven warrior?_ Justice prodded him.

Anders shook his head and refocused on the letter he had received from the mage underground. "Just one of those stupid, mortal things," he said aloud. "Don't worry about it."

 _It is distracting you from our work_.

Anders sighed. Between Justice and idle thoughts about Fenris's musculature, he wasn't going to be able to concentrate on his reading. "You're not helping either, right now."

_Do not pretend you would have been reading that letter if I hadn't pointed this out._

Anders grunted and stood. His joints creaked as he did so, and he took the moment to stretch.

"We've been over this before," he said, letting his arms fall to his sides. "Sometimes I'll find people attractive. It's going to happen whether you like it or not, but it'll pass. It did with Hawke, remember?"

 _This is not like it was with Hawke_ , Justice complained. _You don't even like Fenris - he does not support our cause - I don't understand the fixation._

Anders wearily began picking up the used bandages and bedding that had been spread around the clinic. "Attraction isn't always about who you like. He's just... well put together. It's harmless. And anyway, he's not interested, so it'll be over soon. Just let me enjoy the fantasy a little.

 _I'm not sure that's true_.

Justice's thought gave Anders pause. _What do you mean?_ he prodded at the spirit.

Memories flicked through Anders' mind as Justice brought them to the fore: Fenris looking up at him from across the battlefield, Fenris's eyes meeting his across the table in the Hanged Man, Fenris's hand brushing against his as they both reached for the ale jug at the same time.

Anders coughed at the little thrill that memory raised. "Yes, well, _I_ was aware of those things, but that's because, as you say, I'm somewhat fixated right now. It's all just coincidence, really."

 _He is distracted in the same ways that you are distracted,_ Justice insisted.

 _No,_ replied Anders, _I'm noticing these things because it's what I want to see. And you're noticing them because you're stuck inside my head_.

 _You did not notice these things. I did. You are missing many things at the moment, because you are distracted_.

The conversation was going in circles. "You're the one distracting me now," he said, pointedly, and began moving more rapidly about the room, snatching up bits of dirty cloth with purpose. He could feel Justice's amusement in the back of his brain, but did his best to ignore it.

Anders busied himself with chores around the clinic for another hour, and then started to ready himself for bed. He had just changed into his nightshirt when Fenris came to his door.

The knocking made him jump - in general the people of Darktown didn't bother him when the lantern was out. For a moment, he feared Templars, but then Fenris's distinctive voice sounded clearly through the door.

"Mage, open up!"

Muttering under his breath about inconsiderate idiots, Anders crossed to the door and tried to tamp down the mixture of emotions that roiled inside in response to this late night visit. The foolish part of him that longed to indulge in fantasies warred with a more sensible side that fervently hoped none of _those_ thoughts would show on his face.

He schooled his expression to one of weary annoyance and opened the door, only to have it thrown wide by the agitated elf.

"I am done with this," Fenris said, and collided with Anders, shoving him back against one of the wooden pillars that supported the clinic's distant roof.

Winded and confused, Anders could only stare at Fenris and wonder what he'd done wrong. Surely Fenris hadn't decided to turn him in after all this time? Or had he noticed Anders mooning over him and decided to bring it to an end?

"I can think of nothing but you," Fenris said, green eyes peering into Anders' own with such intensity that Anders didn't immediately notice what he'd said. "I _will_ exorcise this obsession." Fenris finished, and without waiting for a response, pressed his lips against Anders', the hand on Anders' chest gripping into his nightshirt and pulling him down.

It felt like a dream, and at first Anders could do nothing but respond. Was this not all he had fantasised about, to Justice's frustration? Here was Fenris, pulling him down into a passionate kiss, his tongue seeking out Anders' tongue when their lips parted. How could he not respond?

His cock already stirring, Anders kissed back. He sucked on Fenris's top lip, and moaned when their tongues touched again - a thrill coursing through him - and-

 _THIS IS NOT NORMAL_.

Justice's thought broke through the spell of Fenris's kiss like a thunderclap.

_YOU DO NOT EVEN LIKE HIM - SOMETHING IS WRONG._

Blue fade light split Anders' skin in painful cracks of Justice's leaking power as the spirit surged forward, forcing Fenris back from him. Then, as quickly as he has risen, Justice retreated again, leaving Anders gasping and confused.

"What's going on?" Anders said - half to Fenris and half to himself. "This... you... what are you doing? You don't even _like_ me." And with the words, he realised the truth of it. Justice was right. It was one thing for Anders to suddenly find himself obsessed with Fenris. It was quite another for the mage-hating elf to storm down here and jump his bones out of the blue.

"I don't know that that matters," Fenris said, still breathing hard with his passion. "All the more reason to bring this obsession to its point of release."

Anders blinked. "So - so... you want to hate-fuck me?"

"I don't hate you!" Fenris protested. "Why does it matter? As Isabella tells it, you have slept with many people you had no feelings for."

"Excuse me?" If he had fantasised about Fenris seducing him, he'd imagined it would be a bit smoother than this.

 _He is not himself_ , Justice commented.

 _Yes, thank you. You're not helping. I need to think_.

Fenris seemed to sense his error. "No, I mean - I just understood that... you did not seem unwilling when you..." The elf's brown skin now had undertones of red. "This was a foolish impulse," he said, turning away. "Forgive me."

 _Oh, shit._ "No, wait, Fenris!" Anders grabbed his arm. "It's not that I'm _not_ interested. It's just... it's strange, isn't it? Don't you find this strange?"

Fenris stopped walking away, but he didn't turn around.

"How long have you felt this way?"

Fenris shrugged out of his grip. "Does it matter?" he said.

Anders cursed himself for the emotion he heard in the man's voice, but he pressed on. "Yes, I think it does. Because I _have_ been feeling it too. For about a week. And Justice keeps telling me it feels strange to him. Not like other crushes I've had. Like it came out of nowhere."

Anders' eye caught on the gold ring Fenris wore on his right hand. So similar to the one Anders wore on his left. Both rings given to them by Hawke About a week ago. He walked around Fenris so they could face each other and pointed at the ring. "Have you felt this way since Hawke gave you that?"

Fenris frowned, and Anders saw with an ache that his eyes were red, but he looked at his hand.

"I..." he said. "Perhaps?"

"That's - that's when I started to think about you differently as well," Anders said.

 _Yes_ , Justice confirmed. _That's when it started_.

"Let's try taking them off," he suggested, and pulled firmly at the ring on his own hand. It wouldn't budge. It wasn't that it wouldn't fit over his knuckle - it wouldn't move at all. "That's funny," he said to Fenris. "I can't budge it. Can you try yours?" He asked again.

Fenris was frowning deeply, but this time he moved, pulling on his finger. He seemed to have no more success than Anders.

"What witchcraft is this?"

"I don't know," Anders said, starting to feel a bit panicked himself. "Perhaps if I get some oil..." he said, although the solidity with which the ring was stuck suggested that they were not going to be able to remove the rings by normal means.

"Mage," Fenris said, his eyes accusing now, "did you do this?"

"What?" Anders stared in disbelief. " _No_ , you _blasted_ elf. I was the one who told you something was wrong!"

He moved quickly across the room and found the oil on his work table. Anders dribbled it liberally over his finger, trying to work it under the edges of the ring, and then pulled at it again.

All the oil did was make his other hand slide more freely over the surface of the ring and off his finger. "Damn it!"

Fenris was still pulling at his own finger, panic written over his usually controlled face.

"Can't you do something with your... you know... hand thing?" Anders asked.

Fenris looked up incredulously. "My _hand_ thing?"

"You know, where you kind of phase out of... reality, I guess? The lyrium thing?" They'd never really talked about how Fenris used his powers in any depth. "If you phased your hand, would the ring drop off?"

"Oh," Fenris said, and looked down at his hand. "I hadn't thought of that." Some of the panic seemed to leave his face. "I'll try."

Eerie blue light ran up the lines of lyrium carved into Fenris's skin, and for a moment, his hand became transparent... and so did the ring. Fenris cursed as his hand returned to normal. He shook it, as though trying to dislodge a spider that had landed there. " _Venhedis!_ "

"Right," said Anders. "So, it's definitely magic, then."

Fenris stared at him. "Can you not... can you not undo the magic?"

Anders shook his head. "I've never heard of any magic like this. But there are other runes on these rings I could not decipher. If it's an enchantment, perhaps there's something Sandal can do."

Fenris frowned. "Sandal. The dwarf boy?"

He nodded. "Hawke says he's some kind of savant when it comes to enchantment. Come on. There's a shortcut to Hawke's house through the cellars outside my door. It's got to be worth a shot."


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anders and Fenris deal with confused emotions as they turn to Hawke and Sandal for help.

Anders dressed quickly, pulling yesterday's trousers on beneath his nightshirt.

Fenris was looking at him oddly. "Your nightshirt is cleaner than the one you wear in the day," he observed.

Anders glared at him. "They're both clean," he said, pulling on his coat. "I just don't see quite as much blood when I'm asleep in bed at night. Blood leaves a stain - it doesn't mean I don't wash," he added. "My shirt's drying right now, if you must know, so I can't very well put it on, can I?"

"You don't have another shirt?" Fenris asked, frowning at the way the night shirt billowed about his thighs.

"No. I don't," Anders snapped. "And it doesn't sodding matter, does it? No one's going to see us but Hawke. Come on," he said, walking out of the clinic. "It's not as though you're the king of hygiene, you know - I've seen how you live. I'm clean where it matters."

"Mage," Fenris said, following on behind him, "Anders - I meant no offence."

Anders snorted. "Oh yes? I suppose you meant to say that I was dirty in a sexy way."

He didn't know why he was goading Fenris. Perhaps he was embarrassed about what happened in his clinic - Fenris had made it plain that the attraction he felt had nothing to do with feelings, even before he knew there was magic involved. Maybe no-strings-attached sex had appealed at one time, but even then sex had been for fun, not simply to be rid of the other person and the attraction they had caused.

"I didn't say you were dirty." Fenris sounded more puzzled than irritated, which only annoyed Anders more. He set a brisk pace, knowing that with his longer legs, Fenris would need tojog to keep up.

 _Is this helpful?_ Justice prodded him.

 _No_ , he thought back. _Yes. Shut up._

Neither man spoke as they made their way up through the dusty cellars of the Amell estate. Frustratingly, Fenris didn't seem to struggle with the pace he set. Anders supposed that all those muscles must be good for something.

He slowed as they neared the door at the top of the stairs, half wondering if it had been a good idea to invade Hawke's home from beneath when he was most likely asleep. Still, it was too late to go back now, and he did want to be done with this frustrating enchantment.

As they emerged into the main hall, Anders peered around. It was dark, but embers burned in the fireplace to give a faint orange glow to the room. Looking around, he spotted a candlestick and muttered quick spell to light it.

Fenris grunted at the display of magic, but Anders ignored him.

"I guess everyone is in bed," he said.

"I don't think Hawke expects people to come charging into his home from beneath," Fenris said.

"We didn't 'charge in'," Anders replied. "Hawke gave me a key a while ago." Anders spotted a bell pull by the wall and gave it a tug. "That should wake Bodahn up. He can get Sandal and Hawke."

They heard movement above before Bodahn could find his way out of the servants' quarters. Flickering orange light preceded a figure walking across to Hawke's landing.

She leaned languidly on the banister and peered down at them. "What are you two doing here?" Isabela asked "If you wanted to join us you should have said when I was awake."

***

If Fenris had thought he'd had enough earlier in the evening, he couldn't have pictured how much worse things would get as the night wore on. Not only had Anders rejected him, he seemed offended by his advances, which themselves seemed to have been provoked by some malignant magic.

Every second since he'd discovered that the ring could not be removed, Fenris had been aware of it, like a burning band of poison against his skin. Corrupting him. Influencing his mind. Making him think he desired a mage.

And worse, the mage seemed better able to resist it than he. Anders had known that something was wrong when he had not. Anders seemed furious with him, while Fenris struggled to blame the mage for their predicament. _Magic_ was certainly to blame, but for once, Anders seemed innocent.

And somehow he had allowed himself to be dragged to Hawke's estate in the middle of the night, where he would be forced to confess the feelings that had been forced upon him before not only Hawke and his servants, but Isabela.

"Hawke gave us a pair of cursed rings!" Anders called up to Isabela. "And we can't take them off. I thought maybe Sandal could take a look and find a way to disenchant them."

Hawke appeared at the top of the stairs, looking slightly rumpled. "I did what now?" he asked.

"The rings you gave us from the elven burial grounds. They're cursed." Anders held up his ringed hand, and then grabbed Fenris's hand to show them, before Fenris could snatch it back.

"It's true," he said, begrudgingly. "I cannot remove it, and it does seem to have been affecting me... oddly."

"Oooh," Isabela said, slinking down the stairs, wearing only one of Hawke's shirts, yet somehow managing to be more fully dressed than she usually was for a night at the Hanged Man. "Do tell. Just _how_ have you been affected by these _naughty_ rings."

Anders chuckled a little uncomfortably. "Look, we didn't mean to disturb you, Isabela, we didn't realise you'd be here. If we could just talk to Bodahn and Sandal."

Hawke trotted down the stairs behind Isabela. "It must have been pretty serious for you to come here in the middle of the night," he said, looking concerned. "What happened?"

"Ah, ummm," Anders looked at Fenris for a moment, then swallowed. "Look, it's a little embarrassing, but it is urgent."

"Is it not bad enough that we are each under the spell of an enchanted object that can't be removed?" Fenris said, gruffly.

Hawke sighed. "I suppose." He looked around just as the hallway door opened to admit Bodahn.

"I'm so sorry, Meserres," he said. "I came as soon as I could, can I assist you?" He looked from Hawke to Fenris and back again.

"Actually, yes," Hawke said. "I'm sorry to trouble you, but we were wondering if you could wake Sandal. My friends have got into a spot of bother with some enchanted rings, and they were wondering if he could help."

Bodahn fretted. "Oh, Meserres. I'm sure Sandal would be happy to oblige you, but he's asleep just now, and I don't like to disturb him at night. Is is something that could wait until the morning? He does rise early."

Anders exchanged another glance with Fenris, hesitating. "Well... I..." Fenris understood the question in his eyes.

It had seemed imperative to remove the curse as swiftly as possible, but faced with the prospect of waking a lad who might not understand why he was being woken to solve a problem that had done them no physical harm, Fenris became conscious of his own selfishness.

And yet, the knowledge that his very mind was being twisted under the control of unknown magic ate at him. He looked down to avoid Anders' gaze while he thought, twisting at the band of metal.

Then Anders was speaking again. "I'm sorry, Bodahn, but if you could wake him, we'd be very grateful. It's quite... worrying, the effect."

Fenris looked up, surprised.

"Of course," Bodahn said. "Allow me a few minutes to wake him."

"You're really too kind, Bodahn," Hawke said. "Take whatever time you need." He waited until Bodahn had closed the door, then turned back towards them, frowning. "He's a good man, you know, but he can be too good, sometimes. Usually if he pushes back even that much, there's a good reason. I can see that you're bothered by this, but are you sure this couldn't wait until morning?"

Colour rose in Anders' cheeks. "Look, I just thought..." his eyes glanced Fenris's way, then back to Hawke. "I think I've got a little more distance in this thing, because I have Justice in my head telling me that the things I'm thinking and feeling aren't right. But for Fenris, I thought - being under this sort of control..."

Ah. He understood. Surprising as it might be, the mage was protecting him. "I'm fine, mage," he said, rising instinctively to counter the implication that he was somehow weaker than the abomination...

And then regretting it. After all, the mage hadn't said anything he hadn't thought himself.

"Really?" Anders asked. "Because you don't look fine. And you didn't look fine down in my clinic - before _or_ after... after we figured out what was going on."

Hawke was looking at them with raised eyebrows. "And what exactly _is_ going on? I think if you're going to rouse the house for this you should at least tell us what makes this so urgent."

Fenris looked at his feet again. How could he tell Hawke that he was enthralled to a mage. To _Anders_ of all people.

Once again, Anders spoke for the both of them.

"Well, it - it's a kind of mind control. I guess. I don't really know enough about enchantment - because of the lyrium, that's not really something mages can do. Only Tranquil and dwarves can safely handle it - and even then-"

Hawke waved a hand, cutting him off. "Fine, yes, but you know what the enchantment's doing to you, right?"

"Uh, yes," Anders admitted. "At least some of it. It sort of... drew us together."

"We cannot stop thinking about one another," Fenris forced himself to say.

Anders coughed. "Right, no, that's definitely part of it. And... and if I didn't know better, I'd say this was the trick of, well, a desire demon or something, because..."

Isabela gasped. "No!" she exclaimed, a kind of glee in her eyes. "Did you wake us all up because you _like_ each other, and you're so deep in denial you had to blame it on an _enchantment?_ "

"Isabela!" Hawke said, not at all dampening her cackle of delight.

"This is not-" Fenris began.

"You can try to pull it off yourself if you don't believe me!" Anders spoke over him, holding out his hand.

That only made Isabela laugh harder. "Oh Anders, you know I'd pull you off _any_ time!"

"Hawke, it's not..." Anders gave up, groaning in exasperation.

"Isabela, please," Hawke said, and she obliged by quieting her laughter to a low giggle. "Do I understand, correctly?" Hawke asked them both. "You're saying the rings have put you under some kind of _desire_ spell?"

"Yes," Anders said, simply, his tone curt.

Hawke looked to Fenris for confirmation.

"That... seems to be the case."

Hawke whistled. "I guess it's good that it didn't go farther than it did... It didn't, right?" he asked looking worried. "You haven't _done_ anything, while... you know?

"Oh!" Anders said, "No! I - or rather - like I say: _Justice_ realised something was up and, once he called my attention to it, I - I put a stop to it."

Embarrassment overwhelmed Fenris. Anders' meaning was clear: nothing had happened because _Anders_ had stopped it from happening. Fenris would have gone right ahead.

"OK, well, that's good," Hawke was saying. "Really good. Actually, Isabela I really don't think this is that funny. I'm glad you told us. Something bad could have happened. If neither of you are really in control."

"Oh, but it didn't," she said, starting to recover herself. "And it is a _little_ funny. I mean - of all the people to end up with a pair of rings like that, and you gave them to _these two_."

"Yes, well, I guess I'll need to be a bit more careful with the things I find on dead bodies from now on. Sorry," he said, a little sheepishly.

Thankfully, Bodahn returned at that moment, Sandal in tow, sleepily rubbing at one of his eyes.

"Enchantment?" he asked, tiredly.

"Er, more like a disenchantment," Hawke said. "We were wondering if you'd be able to remove the enchantment from the rings my friends are wearing."

Sandal frowned, his childlike face serious, and walked over to take Fenris's hand. He pulled lightly at the ring, and, for a moment, Fenris felt something tingle in the lyrium carved into that hand. Then Sandal ran his fingers around the surface of the ring, sighed, and stepped back.

"It's stuck," he said, simply.

"Umm, yes," Anders said, gently, holding out his own hand. "We know they're stuck. We think it's part of the enchantment. Can you undo it?"

Sandal shook his head. "Needs to come off," he said.

Bodahn cleared his throat. "I think what Sandal means, Messeres, is that to alter an enchantment he needs to be able to work with the lyrium and metal, and he can't do that if you can't take the rings off. Can't put your hand in a forge, you see?"

Fenris's heart sank. "Of course," he said. Of course. It should have been obvious from the moment that Anders had proposed the idea.

"There - there's nothing...?" Anders asked.

"I'm sorry," Bodahn said. "Sandal would say if there were a way around it."

The blood beat loud in Fenris's ears. Did that mean they were stuck like this?

"Thank you for trying," he heard Hawke say, as though from a distance. "I'll be sure to get him something nice from the market tomorrow."

"There must be something else we can do," he said, quietly.

"Right," he heard Anders say, but the mage voiced no ideas.

"This is some dark magic, polluting my body - warping my mind..." he pulled fretfully at the ring on his hand, until another, larger hand closed over his.

Anders.

"Maybe that's it," Anders said.

The world seemed to swim back into focus. "What?"

"'Dark magic' - blood magic. This is mind control, right? That's a blood magic thing," Anders said. "Maybe if Sandal can't help us, Merrill can."


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anders, Fenris, and Hawke visit Merrill, who recognises something significant about the rings.

Thankfully, Hawke managed to convince Isabela to stay behind. Anders wasn't sure how well he could have coped with her cackling and watching both him and Fenris for signs of infatuation all the way to the alienage.

It was bad enough walking through the streets of Kirkwall, dealing with the whirling emotions roiling inside.

He was palpably aware of Fenris - he couldn't help it. The flashes of skin and muscle that were visible in the lamplight under his armour. The artful fall of his hair about his sharp features.

A part of him wanted to revel in the humanity of a crush like this. He missed this kind of feeling. Yet he was also very aware of Fenris's discomfort - what he'd said back in Hawke's house about feeling polluted by magic. The situation was doubly difficult for Fenris, given his past experiences with magic, and the fact that the object of his manufactured affection was himself a mage.

Sympathy warred with frustration - that Fenris's resentment of being unwillingly attracted to a mage was itself an insult. As though affection for Anders was itself something Fenris felt polluted by.

He was also regretting washing his day shirt, so that he was forced to walk the length of Kirkwall in his nightwear. Not that anyone could really tell under his coat, but it was another irritant - a reminder that he ought to be curled up in bed, not thinking about the ratio of attractiveness to annoyance that was embodied in a certain brooding elf.

"You're quiet," Hawke commented as they turned the corner, just past Gamlen's house, into the alienage.

"Sorry," Anders said. "Was I supposed to be talkative? Should I tell you about the depths of passion that are now stirring in my heart?"

Fenris shot him a dark look.

"Err, no," Hawke said, sheepishly. "I guess not. I'm just not used to so much silence when we walk about the city. Usually someone has something to say about something."

Anders sighed. "I suppose I'm rather preoccupied."

"Come," Fenris said, striding ahead of either of them. "We're nearly at the witch's house."

Anders bit back a comment about Fenris's not-so-subtle way of referring to his mage friends in the street where anyone could here. It wouldn't help, and he also wanted to hurry on and talk to Merrill.

Hawke knocked loudly on Merrill's door, and then they waited.

Eventually the door opened to reveal Merrill, standing in a long cotton nightgown, rubbing sleep from her eyes. "Oh!" she cried. "Hawke! I didn't expect to see you tonight." She looked past him to Anders and Fenris and frowned. "Is something the matter?"

"A bit," Hawke confirmed. "Sorry to get you up, but can we come in?"

"Of course," said Merrill, stepping back. "I'm sorry I've not had time to pick up the place - I wasn't expecting anyone. Can I get you some tea?" 

Anders looked around the thoroughly neat and tidy little room and wondered what exactly Merrill thought she needed to pick up.

"Thanks, Merrill," Hawke was saying. "I think it might help. You see, there's been a bit of a mishap with the rings I found on Sundermount the other day."

"Oh dear," she said, as she busied herself with the tea things. "I did tell you, Hawke, you shouldn't be messing around in that place."

"I know," Hawke said, "You did. But the shades attacked _us_ , and if they're going to drop loot, what am I supposed to do, just leave it there?"

"That would be one option, yes," Merrill said. "Please take a seat," she went on, "And tell me how I can help."

There were two chairs, a stool, and a crate around a small table in the middle of the room. Anders chose the crate for himself, though it was a bit low for his long legs.

"Well," Hawke responded. "You see, one had a healing rune, and one had a rune for strength, and I thought that's all they were - simple runes for enhancing someone's powers or whathaveyou. But, ah, they seem to be doing something else as well."

"I noticed there were some other runes at the time," Anders conceded. "But I couldn't sense anything dangerous about them, so I assumed they were safe to put on."

"They were not," Fenris said, and his deep, rolling voice drawing Anders' attention.

He cleared his throat. "Well, no. For one thing, we can't take the rings off. And... and I guess... I guess I've been thinking about Fenris a lot lately," Anders admitted, hoping the heat that rose in his cheeks wasn't visible in the lamp light. "And when Fenris came to visit tonight, it became clear that Fenris was also, well, a bit fixated on me."

Merrill frowned as she removed the hot kettle from the embers of her fire and began pouring out the tea. "Fixated? In what way."

"W-well," Anders stammered. "I guess... I guess we think it's some kind of mind control. From the rings. The connection became obvious when we found we couldn't take them off."

"Yes, but I still don't understand. Why would someone make a ring that made you think about a person wearing another ring, that's very odd."

For once, Anders found himself wishing Merrill wasn't so very innocent in matters of sex. At least Isabela hadn't required much explanation of them.

"I - I guess it's the _way_ it's making me think about him," Anders answered, his cheeks burning now. "It's... it's making us feel things... for each other. And Justice could tell it was unnatural - that it wasn't the way either of us would normally think and feel about each other. We wondered perhaps if it might be a kind of blood magic?"

Still frowning, Merrill set the teacups down on the table and held out her hands. "I think I need to look at these rings."

Anders extended his hand and allowed her to take it. She conjured a little mage light to allow herself a closer look.

"Oh," she said, and then looked between Fenris and Anders and back again. " _Ohhhh_. Oh I do see."

"You, uh, you do?" he asked.

"I can see why that would be rather awkward. Oh deary me," she stifled a giggle. "But it's not funny at all, really."

"So... you know something about these rings, then?" Anders pressed.

"Oh yes," Merrill replied. "I've heard of these before. I'll be honest, I didn't think they were real. I thought they were just a story. But I recognise these runes, and with what you're saying about the effect, I think that must be what they are."

"Which is?" Fenris asked, sounding a little impatient.

"Well," she said. "These are love rings, aren't they? That's what you mean when you say it's making you feel things for each other, isn't it? You feel like you're in _love_."

Anders glanced uncomfortably at Fenris, but the elf was staring at Merrill. "We are _not_ in love," he said to her, vehemently.

"No, of course not," she said, holding up her hands. "But you feel that way, don't you? That's what the rings do in the stories. When a person wants to woo someone who doesn't want them back they go to a sorcerer and he gives them this pair of rings, which bind the two of them together and puts the object of their affection under a spell, so they fall in love. Sometimes they tell the story as though it were romantic, but it always seemed a bit creepy to me."

"On that, at least, we agree," Anders replied. "But do you know how the rings can be removed? _Is_ it blood magic?"

She shook her head, sadly. "It's not like any blood magic I ever heard of. I mean, there are some spells that allow you to influence people's minds, but I don't see how you would attach them to a ring - or a pair of rings. But it might be something Marethari would know more about. They're definitely elven, at least. We could go visit her?"

"Now?" Fenris asked.

"Errr..." Merrill said, looking at him over her tea.

"Maybe this is something that can wait until morning," Hawke said. "We've already done enough traipsing around the city for one night. Let's all go home, get some rest, and leave bright and early tomorrow, hmm?"

Merrill looked relieved, and to be honest, Anders was himself. He'd already been tired when Fenris found him in Darktown, and they were a good hour or so on from that now.

"Sounds good," he said, and glanced at Fenris.

What he saw in Fenris's eyes was difficult to read. Perhaps he just really wanted to be rid of the rings as soon as possible, or perhaps that look meant something else. Either way, Fenris seemed to realise that the rest of them were done for the night. "Yes," he said. "Of course. Let's meet at Hawke's and return to Sundermount tomorrow."


End file.
